Low Class Baby
by your allegria
Summary: The Life of Kenny McCormick: Poor, ignored, and unwanted. [kyle&kenny goodness]
1. and

A/N: OMG, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I really do want it to be slash though, but I can't choose! Haha, so many great couplings in his show. UMMM, this IS my first South Park fanfic, but I'm really obsessed with the show so I really doubt I've got the information wrong, but it might sound a bit odd coming from a first time writer! I'm going to try to keep this as canon as possible, but who knows? J PLEASE let me know what you think about it, okay? Love to all you sweets!

DISCLAIMER: I wish, dude, I WISH.

Kenny didn't know how to tell someone that he was hurting. Maybe it was because he didn't consciously know he was hurting, but he knew he had to say something, so he shouted at his friends and his teachers, hoping that someone somewhere would understand and rescue him.

It wasn't too hard being the one everyone ignored. It meant he got away with doing more things, that he never was the one people picked on. But it also meant that he was the one no one knew about, the one that no one ever could love… It made him a myth, the kind of little story you tell your kids at night to scare them into being good citizens.

_You shouldn't lie, otherwise you'll end up like that little Kenny McCormick, and no one will be able to see you anymore. You shouldn't steal, or Kenny McCormick will come and get you. You should share because you don't want to be like Kenny McCormick._

It was no big secret, anyway, that parents hated him. Even his friend's parents gave him suspicious looks and checked their bedroom drawer before they went to sleep every time he came over. He could feel their eyes on him as he did what every other boy did. As if he wasn't _good_ enough to be their child's friend, as if he wasn't _human. _It made him sick in the bottom of his stomach when he saw them, it felt so wrong sometimes to be himself.

He sat on his bed, the one without the bed frame, and he stared at the discolored watermarks on his ceilings wondering if his life would get any better anytime soon. He look at his dirty windows, and wanted to crack them wide open. He saw the old rug on the floor covering the "bad" part of the flooring, the part where you weren't supposed to step on unless you wanted to fall under. He saw the stains, and the cracks, and the plain ugliness of everything, and he wanted to cry.

Kenny sat up in one fluid motion and stepped out of bed like he had forgotten the stove was on, and hurriedly put on his orange sweater, making sure to hide his hair on the way out the door. He passed his dad on the way out, who looked so much like him, so much that he could see what he might look like in the future if he became an alcoholic, and if he didn't do anything about his future now. In a almost calm way he accepted it as fate, as if nothing could ever change his situation.

He banged the door shut even though the lock was broken. No one bothered to fix it, afterall what did they have that was so valuable and worth stealing? Only the old beaten up sofa if anything at all. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he crossed the train tracks and headed towards Stark's Pond.

It was cold, but it wasn't dark. There was almost a surreal whiteness to the snow, the light glancing off the tiny crystals and if he were anyone else, Kenny would have been almost _inspired_ by them. He decided he didn't give a fuck, and headed down the dirt road that would take him to the frozen pond.

Surprisingly, no one was there. His breath came out in small, shadowy puffs of air and he wondered why he was there. He fumbled in this pockets for a while before taking out a cigarette and a lighter. He remembered the first time he had a cigarette, out behind the school with Stan, Kyle and Eric. It felt so bad, like his throat was closing up and trying to expand at the same time.

It was ironic then that he was the only one who became addicted. He told his dad right off the bat, bumming some off of him at times. His dad had laughed at him, almost in a proud manner, "Yeah, Kenny, the McCormicks are smokers, all of them." It was one of those rare times that his dad clapped him on the back and gave him a one armed hug, and he kissed the top of his head like he was still a little kid.

Yeah, the McCormicks were smokers. They were drunks, and gamblers, and thieves. Kenny hated it, hated his father for being so accepting of something that was bad.

He finished off his cigarette and threw it to the ground. He watched in almost sadistic curiosity as the smoke steamed out from under the snow, melting a little hole around it until he couldn't see it anymore.

He felt like he could relate.


	2. this

Chapter Two:

It was 8:05, school had already started and Kenny was waiting patiently in the whitewashed corridors of Hell's Pass. Kevin had overdosed on drugs again.

He stared at the way the mismatched colors of the tiles contrasted against his hands as he clasped them together, examining the blue-green tint of his veins. Kevin might not make it this time. Kevin might die.

Kenny knew all about death of course. Death was his childhood best friend. He remembered field trips to the museums (the only places he could afford to go) and the way it felt to hold the coldest hand in the world, and to watch everyone else go along their merry way because no one cared to look at just _who_ was holding little Kenny's hand, no one bothered to chase Death away…

He wanted a cigarette. He wondered if he could smoke in the bathroom and get away with it.

"Oh Jesus!"

Tweek was standing in front of him, clutching at his shirt, blonde hair in small tangles. A little bit of his shaking had worn off since South Park Elementary, but you could still sense how tense and nervous he was, even from across the room.

"Hey Tweek." Kenny nodded in his direction. If there was another boy who understood hospitals, it was Tweek. It almost made more sense that he was at Hell's Pass than school. "What are you here for this time?"

"Oh, man, it was so awful. I fell off the roof, man, it was horrible. Jesus, I thought I was gonna die, but I couldn't help it, you know, man? It's just so hard sometimes, because you gotta get away from them, and you got nowhere to go, and oh man! I thought I was gonna die." Tweek rambled in a jerky fashion, biting his nails at intervals.

"How'd you manage to get _on _the roof?"

"Well, you know how sometimes you're sleeping or something, and then you wake up on the roof? That's how I did it, Jesus, they nearly got me that time, but I'm not gonna let them, you know?" Tweek nodded to himself as if Kenny had agreed with him. "I gotta go, my parents are gonna be here soon, oh Jesus!"

"Bye Tweek."

As the jumpy blonde boy hurried off, Kenny stared after him. Sometimes he felt bad for Tweek. He didn't deserve to be so paranoid all the time, the kids at school always picked on him for it. They never directly called him names for his condition, like they did to so many other students, but they smiled at him in that way, the kind of way you smile at someone you find to be so _stupid_, so _lowly_. A voice in the back of his head called out '_the way they smile at you?'_

Kenny ignored it and went to the bathroom to smoke.

It was already fourth period by the time he got to school, and the hallways were empty. His shoes made loud noises as he walked to class. He walked slowly, trying to stall every moment until he entered the crowded and noisy classroom. Even he could admit that this place needed a little bit of work, but no one was ready to give thousands to a school that produced nothing but "trash".

He finally reached the classroom, and he turned the doorknob to enter. As soon as he did, he noticed that it was actually quiet for once. They were watching a movie, which meant that half the class was asleep. He nudged Stan on the shoulder before taking his seat in back of him.

"Woah, dude, you're late today. What gives?"

Kenny shrugged, not really wanting to get into the details of his morning. Stan nodded and put his head down again. The glow from the television made everyone in the room seem much older than they really were. The darkness and light contrasting sharply with their features. Across the room, Eric sat with Kyle, which is really too bad because they never lost their competitive spirits and hate for each other. Half the noise usually came from them. The teacher had given up a long time ago.

Eric Cartman was the same overweight bully he had known since forever ago. He looked a bit healthier because his shoulders were broader, and he didn't have the same exact pregnant look anymore. He was on the football team now, using his weight for better things than sledding down hills. It was odd to see Eric as a jock, but that's what he was, and he wore the jacket to show it, "Cartman" written in impressive gold, cursive letters on the back.

This didn't exactly hold well with Stan who used to be on the same team. Stan grew moody for a couple of days, and instead of joining the Goths, he went on to join a band, and did fairly well for himself playing the guitar. He didn't change very much physically, he still had the same black hair and blue eyes, and like to wear red. Stan was known to get in trouble for falling asleep in class, but didn't really get in trouble for it like everyone else did. The teachers adored him.

Kyle was still his best friend, and the one who hadn't changed the most. He was pretty much the same kid everyone liked and the one Eric hated. Kenny sometimes felt uncomfortable around Kyle, mostly because they were so different. Kyle was more than well off, and dressed in Abercrombie, used Uniball pens, and got a new backpack every year to hold his numerous books in. He was still well mannered, and still modest, and his mother made sure he was still getting good grades.

Sometimes, it just didn't make sense that they were all such good friends, although the word friend usually wouldn't be used to describe the relationship between Cartman and the other boys. They were all different, and somehow all developed really different hobbies and interests, but they were all still the same inside. Kenny supposed that if they were to all be cut open, it would be hard to tell which one was which, except Eric. He smiled lazily to himself.

"Dude, and then Craig fucking tells her that I like her, so now she's like stalking me. How fucking messed up is that?" Stan was sulking at this bad run of luck with girls, and Kyle was laughing at him. "Stop laughing, dude! I'm serious! She really thinks she has a chance with me!"

"God damnit Stan, this is the reason why everyone thinks you're a fag, you just can't get it together." Eric shook his head sadly. "You really need to go out and get a girlfriend, otherwise you're just homo like Kyle here."

"Fuck off Cartman!" Kyle shouted, going red. "I told you I'm not gay!"

Eric ignored him. "You see, Jews have absolutely no sense of right or wrong. They think that they could convert everyone to being on their side, but they just can't. Stan, let me help you. Stop hanging out with Kyle, we could ditch him and then-"

"I'm not going to stop hanging out with Kyle. No one thinks I'm gay."

It was pretty much the same conversation everyday. Kenny was glad it was this way. At least if his friends remained constant, it would somehow make up for the unstable life he lived at home. He rested his head on his hands and stared off into space. He wondered if Kevin was going to be okay…

"Dude, Kenny, what are you doing?"

Looking up, he realized he was staring at the redheaded boy across from him. Flushing underneath his hood for some odd reason, (can't a boy just look at his friends once in a while?) he cleared his throat. "Nothing."

Stan went back to eating, and Kyle gave him one last confused look. Eric stood up, his tray making a scraping sound as he picked it up. "Well, I'm gonna have to catch you fags later, I'm gonna go meet up with Wendy."

The boys all nodded. Lunch was over.

Everyone still picked on Pip. Kenny was sure he would have if he could afford it, but time was expensive just like everything else in life, and so he didn't. He saw the British boy being shoved up rudely against the pale yellow walls, and he felt bad. Not pity or sympathy, and definitely not empathy, but he certainly felt something watching it happen. He saw something of himself in Pip, in some strange distorted way. Here was a suffering boy, and no one ever bothered to help him.

"God, damn, someone should say something." Kyle spoke up behind him, hugging his AP Trigonomentry book to himself.

Kenny silently agreed.

A/N: Okay, wow, is this story BORING or what? Haha, sorry for the extremely long writing about Kenny's life in general with nothing going on, I just wanted to make clear to everyone what was happening in his life. I want it to be realistic (in a good way) and I think no one's life is seriously THAT exciting that things happen EVERYDAY. Unless yours is, then I'm rolling around in envy.

This is pretty much a story in which Kenny feels hopeless about life, so you're going to feel hopeless while you read the story, or something of that nature if you're relating to him AT ALL by now. Ummm, also, I'm sure that Kenny's going to be lonely, so he's going to be paired up with quite a few characters before he finds his one true love so it might be confusing. Oh, also, this isn't going to be one of those Kenny stories where he turns into a whore, or his dad beats him, or anything so devastating, although it will have "moments" like that.

As always, please review, let me know what is on your mind! I am definitely interested in what you have to say. J

You know where to find me, as 


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